In my opinion, there is always, always something special about a group of homeopaths coming together. There is an energy that I don't always experience out in the 'real world', though that's not to say it's not there too.

Is is about an ability to let go, to embrace, to be yourself, delightedly unique as you are? To meet with a shared purpose? To feel you are amongst like minded beings? To support each other? Celebrate with each other? Perhaps all of these and so much more alongside.

This weekend showed me, once again, how what we have is so special. On arrival, I was ushered in by drums. Welcomed by them. A huge drumming circle, and I was passionately embraced by the noise.

Or at least, as I was on the later side getting there, the drumming circle had begun. The joyful sound from the barn space accompanied me putting my tent up, and despite having been listening to Michael Singer's The Surrender Experiment (I highly recommend) on my trip to South Wales, I was feeling resentful to have brought my one Em tent (3 person if you listen to the tent peeps), instead of my 2 person tent that I suggested I bring. I could have the 2 person tent up in half the time. Less than gracefully I rang Steve, my partner - who, for the record had entirely packed the car for me with my camping things, including a hot water bottle - and complained.

Complaining done (and for what it's worth, I was grateful for the space and still entirely love that tent and did apologise later), it was the tent I had so it was time to get on with the erection process. I did consider sleeping without a tent but decided quickly against that. I can absolutely manage it solo, but moving the tent backwards because it was, in fact, the less great tent size for the space was a challenge. Just at that moment, my tent neighbours arrived. Literally the people who were staying right next to me. They assisted and in no time I was set up. The moment of needing help and it arriving was not lost on me. To reconnect with people I met several years ago was also perfect.

I want to backtrack a moment which feels relevant to The Surrender Experiment, and finding yourself in surprising places you'd never expected. There's been a lot of that for me, and mostly by saying yes to opportunities I didn't always feel ready for, but others did, and I got on with it. I'd taken on a role at the School of Homeopathy in Stroud, and due to this ended up going to Stroud on a weekend that I didn't usually attend. There I met Bill Rumble there whilst out at dinner. A few weeks after that I had an email from Linda Gwillim to say that Bill had said I'd be happy to teach in Wales. Racking my brain, I replied that I didn't think I'd said that - but yes, I'd love to. Linda told me that sounded just like Bill. And so I got to attend and teach at the Welsh Winter School and two other teaching weekends at the Welsh School of Homeopathy. Each time it was wonderful to be with the students and folk there. Saying yes to life has brought much joy.

When I was invited to the Summer School - I knew it was right to go along. The Welsh Summer Schools have always been spoken of with a tone of reverence, awe and wonder. And are only for graduates, students and lecturers/past lecturers of the School. To be able to go due to a chance meeting and saying yes to several opportunities, it felt like there was really only one right answer.

Likewise when I was asked if I'd like to speak at the Summer School. Absolutely happy to, though I also don't need to. Whatever works best. And if I was to speak, at the moment I'm a bit obsessed with joy - and what we do when we lose joy as well.

At some point on Friday, Linda mentioned that my session would be sometime in the morning, with Richard Pitt the other time, and Geoff Johnson in the afternoon... well, I'm glad I didn't know that before. They're both brilliant, well known teachers and I’m not sure how I’d have felt, even though I'm sure how I'd have responded. It was probably just going to be accompanied by more nerves if I'd have known. I was taught by Geoff whilst I was at the North West College of Homeopathy and for quite some time, I have taught the same weekends as he does in Stroud. I used to read about Richard Pitt doing amazing things in Africa in journals whilst I was studying. That said, I've been teaching for somewhere around 12 years (I'm going to have to check out the exact dates later) but it's amazing how you can suddenly feel dwarfed by the presence you're in.

Anyway - that's just my feel the fear and do it anyway reminder. It was wonderful speaking and sharing my thoughts and learnings with the room, hearing stories and facilitating creativity and curiosity in my session. I am so grateful to have been asked - and to have said yes.

That's enough about me - and the story of why I was there. For me the weekend really highlighted the beauty of collaboration, a celebration of the individual with the support of the group, and so I want to get back to that. The fact circles were used as a seating configuration so often felt significant. Drumming circles, fire circles, circles used in ceremony. Everyone had an equal place and part to play in those spaces. Ceremonies were held, people nourished, with both soul food and delicious vegetarian fare. I left with my cup overflowing, my heart full and feeling filled with gratitude and hope for the world we live in and the homeopathic community. New connections made, older ones nurtured, good friends caught up with and feeling grateful for it all.

The Welsh School does things differently. At parties at least is my take. There's a bit more of a wild, free energy, something perhaps a little more feral. Feral - for me by the way - is considered a high compliment. An embracing of our wilder sides (that said, I was assured that the Summer School I attended was plenty more sedate than other times).. Still, for once, I was not the only person dancing barefoot. There was a different rhythm. And with that, a whole load of connection, of beauty. Bring me barefoot to a field with a group of homeopaths anyday.  Being woken by the dawn chorus, in a field full of peaceful beings is a gift by itself, but to be entertained and inspired by the likes of Geoff and Richard and frankly, to arrive a relative stranger and leave feeling so nourished is amazing. Welcoming. Inclusive. And joy-full.

It felt like the land and sky were meeting us there. The venue, Mud and Wool in Lampeter, was perfect. Complete with sauna, plunge bath, cold shower, outdoor shower, cottages, camping space including the camping meadow, indoor shower and loos, room for campervans, two shepherds huts, a studio space, bell tents and a huge barn area with a bar, and creative areas... oh and the fire pit, plus loads of seating - comfortable and dining, inside and out, great views and lots more - it was a dream of a location to be. The owners were fascinating to chat to, accommodating and helpful. And, as I have excitedly told several people, have two rescue pigs. The mist that came in during the water blessing ceremony just added to the magic, to the joy of being held in the space together.

The thought that must have gone into planning the weekend was impressive. And the somewhat winging it element where needed was also inspiring. I had prepared to be sharing a powerpoint, however I hadn't got the right connections with me to make it work - and had also been ready to potentially present outside, without tech, so the fact I didn't have my shiny slides, felt like it fitted into an energy of - we've got a plan but it's flexible if it needs to be. A great way to do life. Geoff was going to teach inside, but the weather was so lovely, so we headed out to be the sun. What a joy. To adapt, to embrace what is.

There's been a couple of times recently I'd been disappointed by marketing by folk - almost putting down someone or something else, and this weekend was such an amazing counterbalance to that. Let's lift each other up, stand in circle together. Nourish, grow, love and learn. Here's to each other. The unique brilliance of all of us. And celebrate everything.

I was aware I might not get close to doing the event credit in the writing, but still it felt important to write. So much magic. Smiles shared, joy touched upon, magic well and truly embraced. For we are fine out there ourselves, but are so much better together.

I am hopeful, on that note, for an event, inspired by the beauty of the final Welsh Summer School, and Welsh School altogether to come out of that weekend. Watch this space - and if it does come into being, then definitely get the date in the diary and your ticket bought.

There is so much more, and perhaps for me it takes time for it to sink in, or perhaps it's just supposed to stay sacred in that space. The learning from the beauty, the collective, the collaboration in harmony felt important to share. The biggest thanks to the joy, healing and incredible magic Bill and Linda have brought to the world through their 31 years of running the Welsh School of Homeopathy together. Totally and utterly remarkable and their beauty, passion, compassion and joy shone out of them all weekend.

With joy, Em x

Left to right: John Morgan, me, Linda Gwillim, Bill Rumbe, Richard Pitt, Geoff Johnson

On the panel I didn't know I was doing til 3 mins before we began. What an utter honour and joy to be there accompanied by these amazing beings. Maybe that's all I needed to write after all. What an utter joy and honour to be in Wales surrounded by all the amazing beings who were there this weekend. Magic indeed.

It was a poor example. Clumsy. I've had, probably hundreds of more eloquent conversations with others on the same topic, but sometimes I can dash in and enthusiastically share and here I did, and on reflection it feels a bit yucky. Like I got it wrong. Which if you listened to my words, I feel like it’s fair to say that I did. If you listened to my heart and what I feel and know I stand for…well then that perhaps made my words even more clumsy. The example was a poor one. I had plenty of other things I could have shared - or even shut up, and my point was that it didn’t illustrate well what I was trying to say well.  It felt wrong. Which left me feeling irritated at myself for my lack of eloquence and good explanation in the space. Not getting across what I was trying to and potentially being misunderstood.

There is learning about better expression here, and I’ll take that forward. And also, for me at least, learning around being able to be misunderstood and potentially thought badly of.

How I think others perceive me, and allowing that not to feel congruent with who I feel I am, is definitely something I am still learning, working on and feeling my way around. I’m miles on from where I was years ago - with still plenty of room to grow.

My neighbour, for example, ‘knows’ that I’m a narcissist. ‘Knows’ as in that is her belief. To her, it is a fact. I took some time to examine her ‘fact’ after she shouted it at me some time ago and decided that personally I know, or I at least feel I know that I am pretty confidently, most likely not a narcissist. Of course, perhaps a question is if one were, would one sign up to the label or not?!

That query aside, it was one of her best teaching points for me over our at times quite uncomfortable relationship. And I am incredibly grateful for it.

It is able to inform my discomfort in this space somewhat. And whilst I am still working with it; the recent experience is definitely shining a light that I haven’t let go of what others perceive of me being important to me. More work to do and hey, that’s one of the joys for me in this discomfort. And really each time. This time there’s definitely a highlight on a need to be able to express my heart more eloquently. And perhaps to pause more too.

That day felt like a rushing day. It had more packed into it than I could get through. This week, if I’m honest, this month, has had a few too many tasks if I stop and listen in. And perhaps that is very relevant learning also.

Stepping back, slowing, creating space. Interestingly they are some areas the course has touched upon so perhaps my experience was, whilst not comfortable, exactly what I needed. After all, my favourite mantra is ‘it’s all learning.’ Most of my best learning comes from the moments that aren’t exactly glorious, where I didn’t 'get it right'. Or at least felt that way.

Permission to get it wrong too, feels important somehow. For that, what comes to mind for me is the beautiful Morgan Freeman and his line in Robin Hood Prince of Thieves** that ‘there are no perfect men in this world, only perfect intentions.’ Here’s to fking up and learning from it all. In all the ways that we can.

Interestingly, for me at least, half of my observation, the other part aside from my poorly worded, badly explained attempt at standing in someone else’s shoes, was whether someone could experience a scenario with curiosity and creativity meeting discomfort in an unexpected situation with compassion for the self, compassion for the whole energy of any emotions arising and embracing the potential creative spark in the unexpected. Perhaps it is time to do just that for myself.

Here’s then too, to compassion, creativity and curiosity. Along with being delightfully human. Which is not getting it right all the time. Or at least, certainly not for me ;)


This experience has sparked something in me and may be a start of a few blogs on the topic, or even the seed of a project to bear fruit. I'm aware I'm not the only person in the world that fucks up here and there. And perhaps I am not the only one who is up in the night reflecting on their learning around it. I used some really useful tools learnt over the years and am grateful for all of that too. I'm not sure what form a project going forwards may take... It may look like just a blog here and there, and may be a circle space to explore, create and reflect, or may be something entirely different altogether.


** I actually think that may be the exact moment that I fell in love with Morgan Freeman. I wrote the quote on a postcard sized framed card full of my favourite quotes back when I was about 14. Since I’m here with my Robin Hood trivia, one of my draws to see the film was that Kevin Costner went skinny dipping and, well, the waterfall scene. I like to think that 14 year old me would be happy that I wove Morgan, being imperfect as a human, skinny dipping - and Kevin’s naked bum into a blog on fking up and learning from it.

14 year old me would definitely be pleased I swam in the waterfall from the film last year. Here's to life. Diving in. Fking up. Learning. Loving. Ourselves and others.